


Hell's Belle

by montecarlogirl87



Series: Highway to Hell [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam run into an interesting stranger. Helping her work through her own personal crisis they find themselves drawn into her world, and she into theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is was first fic in the SPN world. Geez, back during S1. I'm not saying it's good. Hell, I would re-write this shit out of this now days. 
> 
> BUT...it's still my special baby. Not only was it my first SPN fic, but it ended up turning into this huge massive series which I had never done before. So, yeah.
> 
> There was/is a soundtrack for this, my links were of course rendered null and void when Megaupload was shut down, but there's still a tracklist and artwork here, if you're interested:  
> http://loco-lobo.livejournal.com/35534.html

She was cruising down a deserted stretch of I-585, doing at least ninety when that all too familiar lurch in her Monte Carlo started again. She glanced down at her odometer as her foot slammed the accelerator to the floor, making the car chug even more.  
  
“Damnit, every fuckin’ 500 miles.” She swore.  
  
It was never really a big inconvenience, but having to stop and change a damned fuel filter every five to six hundred miles could become a little annoying. There was nothing wrong with the car mechanically, but for some reason the fuel filter had always been a problem. Her father had helped her ‘fix’ it way before he died; putting a larger one on the side, jury-rigging their own fuel lines and making it easier to change.  
  
She pulled off onto the gravel shoulder of the road and snatched her hoodie from the backseat. It had to be at least 40 degrees outside and in the dead of January. She leaned over the passenger seat, twisting the knob to the glove box, the tray dropping down and her hand quickly shoving a gleaming custom double-barreled .38 out of the way and grabbing the spare fuel filter she kept there, as well as the nut driver she needed to change it. She quickly punched the trunk release button before slamming it shut. She then popped the hood and yanked on the door handle, standing up in the crisp northern Georgia air, pulling her hoodie over her head quickly.  
  
She walked around to the trunk, lightly grabbing the small tail fin and lifting it. She reached into the corner, past the toolbox by her spare and rummaged for a decently clean rag. Slamming the trunk closed and walking back to the front of the car, she quickly lifted the steel cowl-induction hood and walked around to the passenger side to undo the current, and apparently blocked, fuel filter. She spun the nut driver in her hand so effortlessly it was apparent she knew what she was doing.   
  
The piping hot filter was thrown on the shoulder of the road with the aid of the rag and the new one quickly took its place. She had just about finished tightening the first clamp when she heard the distinct rumble of a big-block Chevy. Quickly looking back down the road where she came from she saw the black beast at the crest of the hill. Something sparked deep in her stomach. Damn, that thing was hot.  
  
She watched it as it flew by in all its glory and down the next hill, before returning to her task.

_*AC/DC’s “Back In Black” playing in the background*_

* * *

 

Sam and Dean were cruising through Georgia following the most recent set of coordinates that had been sent to them. The ’67 Impala was nothing more than a black blur as Dean accelerated the car over a hill, passing a stranded motorist in an equally impressive car. Sam watched as the car blurred by but said nothing as Dean kept driving.   
  
When they made it to the lowest point of the hill Dean brought the car down to maybe 15 miles an hour and did a U-turn in the middle of the highway.  
  
“Umm…Dean, what the hell are you doing?” Sam asked cautiously.  
  
“Dude…there was a girl under the hood of that car.”  
  
“Yeah…and?”  
  
“A GIRL…under the hood of a CAR. A girl, working on a car, I gotta see that.”  
  
“You’re pathetic.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head and looking back out the window.

* * *

 

She had finished with the filter and was just doing a check up on some things under the hood when she heard the rumble come back. She watched as the black Impala yet again passed her, went maybe a mile down the road back the way it came, did a U-turn and returned, pulling off on the side, parking behind her.  
  
She stood up with her rag grasped in one hand, letting her other reach behind her in what looked like a simple gesture of wiping some grease on her pants. In reality she effortlessly reached the waist of her pants, fingering the safety off on the Glock that was resting patiently there. She shifted her weight just enough to feel the comforting coolness of the steel blade strapped to her ankle and the shape of her four inch switchblade in her back pocket.  
  
The Impala’s doors squeaked their opening as two twenty-something-ish guys got out. She growled inwardly. She had made it this far and only had to break some bones. She really didn’t want to have to draw blood and mess up these little boy’s faces.  _Damnit…they just had to be hot didn’t they._  
  
“Hi.” The roguish, more ruff looking one offered, a big grin on his face as he eyed her car.  
  
 _Great,_  she thought,  _not only after the girl, but the wheels as well?_  
  
She caught the taller ones eyes and could see pain. Deep seated pain. He didn’t look like the type that would start trouble, and despite the other one’s bad-boy look, he didn’t either. This wasn’t what it had originally looked like. And when she looked back into the shining hazel eyes of the one closer to her she saw no ill will. Not that that made her drop her guard any.  
  
“I’m Dean,” the first one said, offering his hand, and nodding towards the other. “and that’s Sam, my brother.”  
  
“Hey.” She offered cautiously, shaking his hand and almost laughing when his face twitched when she shook it firmly.  
  
“What seems to be the problem?”  
  
“Nothing, I fixed it.” She cut out, wiping her hands on the rag and quickly tightening the wing nut on her air cleaner.  
  
“Aww…come on, I thought maybe we could help ya out.” He said with a heart-melting grin.  
  
She stood up and stared him down with her gray-blue eyes.  
  
“Why?”  
  
He shrugged, “Thought you might need it.”  
  
Sam was quickly seeing where this was going and trying hard to stifle his laughter.  
  
She shot a glance to the left where Sam stood, and walked back over towards Dean, her left hand snaking out and grabbing the upturned hood, pulling it down so quickly and with such force that when it slammed shut the entire front end of the car recoiled an inch or two under the strain.  
  
Dean’s eyes snapped to the car as the metallic sound of steel slamming shut reverberated through the hills and quickly went back to the girl that was advancing on him.  
  
“You think that because I’m a girl, with the hood popped on a car that I need help? You think that because I don’t have a set of balls means that I can’t work on a set of wheels?’  
  
Dean stammered. “Umm…no…” He said, looking at Sam for a way out and seeing nothing but a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, and looked back at the girl. “I was just trying to be nice. I know a thing or two about cars. I didn’t know if anything was majorly wrong, or if I could help…I was just trying to be a good guy…I swear.”  
  
A grin broke out over her face. “Didn’t mean to be a bitch, just gotta be careful when you’re a girl.” She smiled as she walked around him and opened the driver’s door, pulling the keys out of the ignition and slamming the door shut, walking back around and popping the trunk again, throwing the gas-covered rag back into its corner.  
  
Dean’s eyes snapped to his brother who was quietly chuckling to himself. Dean shot him a death glare and mouthed the word ‘bitch” sarcastically, before he returned his gaze to the strange girl.  
  
She popped open the lid on a cooler that had been stashed in her trunk, rummaged around in the ice, popping a piece in her mouth and grabbed a Pepsi.  
  
“You boys wanna drink?” She offered, tilting the Pepsi in their direction.  
  
Dean had a look of pure confusion on his face as Sam laughed and took her up on her offer.  
  
She tossed a bottle towards Dean without waiting for a response and smiled with the melting ice cube between her teeth, giving him a wink to finish him off.  
  
Dean’s pants instantly shrunk.  
  
 _Damn her._  
  
She again closed the trunk and hopped up on the side.   
  
“Seriously, I’m sorry about before…I’ve just…been ridin’ for a while, and I’ve had to deal with some assholes.” She said as she took a swig, letting the cool carbonated soda burn down the back of her throat. She again reached behind her and pulled out the Glock, fingering the safety back on and placing it on the smooth metal next to her.  
  
Dean immediately threw a glance at Sam.  
  
“Musta been one hell of an asshole.”  
  
“You have no idea.” She stared into Dean’s eyes before finally looking down at the cracked asphalt. All hostility had left her body, all three of them starting to relax around each other like old friends.  
  
“There a specific reason you’re carrying that thing?”  
  
“A few.” She said, staring at him.  
  
He could have sworn he saw something spark deep behind those blue eyes; a scar on this poor girl’s soul.  
  
She lifted her right leg, putting the edge of her heel on the car and lifting her pant leg enough to show off the curved blade strapped to her leg. She then pulled her switchblade and placed it next to the gun.  
  
“And there’s more where that came from.” She said with a bone-chilling grin.  
  
Again Dean met her eyes. This was getting interesting.  
  
“What’s your name?” He rumbled, deep and low, reminding her of the throaty sound of the V-8 in the Impala he drove.   
  
She almost shivered.  
  
“Tabrina.”  
  
“What?”  
  
She laughed. “Tabrina…like the witch, except with a T. Don’t ask…my mom was weird. But my friends call me Monte.”  
  
“Was?” Sam cautiously asked.  
  
“She and my Dad died in a car crash. The cops said it was mechanical failure on the car’s part…complete bullshit. My Dad was a mechanic. Taught me everything I know, there was no way that car did anything wrong. We had that thing running better than the ones that roll of the assembly lines today.”  
  
“What was it?” Dean jumped in.  
  
“1964 GTO.”  
  
He nodded. “Not the car’s fault.”  
  
She smirked. “Exactly.”  
  
“So what was it?” Sam again asked.  
  
“Dunno,” she shrugged. “The thing just blew, in the middle of the fucking highway. Just…boom. Coroner said they were killed the moment the thing caught on flames. Instantly incinerated.”  
  
Sam threw a cautious glance in Dean’s direction.  _Interesting, another fire claming innocent lives._  
  
She noticed the look, and glanced between the two brothers, “What?”  
  
“Nothin.’” Dean said curtly, shoving his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat.  
  
“Our Mom died in a fire too.” Sam said quietly.  
  
Her gaze met the ground; she felt bad…there was obviously more to that story.  
  
Awkward silence hung in the air, like each breath they took. Small clouds of mist that were the only sign they were even alive.  
  
“So what year is this thing?” Dean asked, his bravado breaking the silence, as he glanced down the side of the Monte.  
  
“’87.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Yours is a ’67 right?” She ventured, tossing her thumb in the direction of the Impala.  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“Lemme guess…427?” She grinned.  
  
“How in the hell…”  
  
“I’m a car girl, incase you haven’t noticed.” She laughed.  
  
“Yeah, I kinda did…but how did you know what engine?”  
  
“My dad taught me. I’m not anywhere near as good as he was. But I can tell sometimes. Gotta love that rumble.”  
  
Dean liked her more and more. Weapons, cars, hot; what more could he need?  
  
“Whaddya got in this one?”  
  
“Small-block 400, with an Edelbrock carb. Custom straight pipe duals, Thrush glass pack exhaust, headers, high-performance cam…the whole package.”  
  
“Shit.” He whispered.  
  
She laughed as he walked around the beast. She hopped down off the trunk and opened the driver’s door, pulling the hood release as he walked by the front.  
  
The hood popped up obediently as he walked by and he looked up at her almost asking permission before he reached down and pulled it up; whistling when he saw the chrome and black completely detailed engine. The name “Renegade” was custom inlaid on the air cleaner in red, to match the painted block.  
  
“Renegade?”  
  
“It’s the car’s name.”  
  
He smiled.  
  
After some general car talk the trio stood in silence for a moment.  
  
“Sooo…what brings you boys down here, south of the Mason Dixon line?” She asked.  
  
“Work.” Dean replied.  
  
“Whaddya guys do?”  
  
“We’re…umm…hunters.” It wasn’t a complete lie.  
  
“What the hell ya hunting down here? ‘Coons?”  
  
Dean almost laughed. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but this chick had a thick accent.  
  
“Not really.” Sam replied.  
  
She looked between the two brothers. They seemed nice enough, but this skirting around the subject shit was making her senses go on high-alert.  
  
Sam noticed the change in her. “We hunt…hard to find things.”  
  
She squinted. This was getting a little too weird.  
  
Dean tried in vain to change the subject. “What brings you to Georgia?”  
  
She knew what he was trying to do. “Lookin’ for my brother.”  
  
“Did he run away?” Sam asked.  
  
She turned her head to look at him again.  
  
“Ya know what, I think it’s kinda funny you expect me to tell ya what the hell is goin' on in my life,” She said standing straight, and putting her hand in her back pocket; a move that was not lost on the boys. “But yet you won’t tell me a damn thing about you two.”  
  
“Sorry…I didn’t mean to pry…”  
  
She didn’t want a word of it. She yanked her keys out of her pocket and went to get back in her car.  
  
“Wait, seriously…” Dean started.  
  
“No. No waiting, seriously. If you knew half the shit I’ve gone through, or half the shit I’m sure I’m gonna face when I finally track down that asshole of a brother of mine, you’d know better then to fuck with me. I’ve put people in the ground for less. But if you don’t want to shoot straight with me. Than fuck you.”  
  
She got in her car slammed the door and tore off like a bat out of hell. Her Cooper tires screaming as the car slammed torque on them and they made contact with the clay-stained asphalt.  
  
“What the hell…”  
  
“What do you think she meant by that?”  
  
“I dunno.” Dean said, staring as the rear end of the car disappeared from sight.

* * *

 

“Why do you think she had all those weapons?” He asked as he climbed back into the Impala, with Sam on the other side.  
  
Sam pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Didn’t exactly look like something you’d use in a fight though, did it?” He asked, turning to look at Dean.  
  
“Naw, it didn’t. Looked more like the stuff we carry.”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
“We didn’t get a last name did we?”  
  
“No…why?”  
  
“I wanna know what’s up with this ‘brother.’”  
  
“Dean, what about the job in Tennessee?”  
  
He was met by silence, as Dean stared out the windshield.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“Huh? Yeah, yeah…right.” He sighed as he turned the key and continued down the road.

* * *

 

“Damnit, damnit, damnit!” She swore, hitting the steering wheel with each word.  
  
“Fuck! Great, Monte, just effing great. You find not one, but two, halfway decent guys, probably the nicest two guys you’ve met on this whole fucking escapade and you have to let your fucking temper get in the way. Shit.” She hissed.  
  
She blared the radio to help drown out the sounds of the thoughts that continued to scold her in her head.

_*Charlie Daniel’s Band’s “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” playing in the background*_


	2. Chapter 2

They reached the hole in the wall town of Cave Spring about an hour after dark set in. They were both beat and ready to crash at the one motel the town sported. As Dean drove down the two-lane blacktop, breaking every speed limit in town, he spotted something. Sitting in the parking lot of a shady looking bar, was the 1987 Monte Carlo.   
  
He slammed on the brakes so hard and turned the corner so quick, Sam almost tumbled into his lap; the car’s tires screeching in protest and the back end swinging wildly.  
  
“Dean! What the hell are you doing?!”  
  
He quick cut the wheel, parking it crooked in the only open parking spot.  
  
“Look!”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“Look!” Dean roared, jabbing his finger out the window.  
  
Sam saw it, and shot a look at Dean.  
  
“And…”  
  
“And I think I need a drink.” He said as he yanked open the door and got out.

* * *

 

_*Blue County’s “Good Little Girls” playing in the background*_

Thick country music was playing as the two brothers entered the bar. They were just short of standing out like sore thumbs. Dean saw Tabrina sitting at a stool by the counter and ordered Sam to find a table before he spotted her.  
  
Dean then made his way through the smoke filled room and over to the seat next to her.  
  
She was taking a swig from her Budweiser bottle as he took a seat next to her and ordered beers for himself and Sam.  
  
She sighed and put her bottle down, spinning it in its watermark on the counter.  
  
“Jimmy.”  
  
“Yeah, Monte?” The tattooed bartender asked as he grabbed a couple longnecks for Dean.  
  
“These boys’ drinks are on me tonight.”  
  
Jimmy shot a look at Dean and nodded before handing him his beers.  
  
“You don’t have to do that.”  
  
“And you don’t have to tell me what to do.”  
  
He bit the inside of his lip. “Look, I’m sorry about before…”  
  
“Shut it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t want your lame ass apologies. Besides I wasn’t exactly the nicest girl either.” She smiled, shooting him a glance from the corner of her eye.  
  
“True.” He said, with his own grin.  
  
She sighed again and looked at him. “Where’s Sam?”  
  
He shrugged and glanced around the bar, “I told him to go get a table.”  
  
“Boys like you shouldn’t be stag in a place like this, come on let’s go find him.” She said reaching over the counter and grabbing a bottle of Crown Royal, winking at Jimmy and walking away.  
  
He looked at Jimmy and back at her.  _What the fuck?!_ ]  
  
Walking fast and trying to act normal as he watched her hips sway in front of him in those worn blue jeans, he shouted over the guitar and fiddle pouring from the jukebox.  
  
“You own this town or what? And what do you mean ‘boys like us?’”  
  
She spun around walking backwards taking a swig straight from the bottle. She winked at him with a heart-stopping smile and almost made him trip over his own feet.  
  
She had somehow managed to walk straight to the table that Sam had picked. Dean had no idea how she had ever known were to look through the crowd.  
  
Sam immediately straightened up when he saw Tabrina walking towards him…with Dean, of course, in tow.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“Hi yourself.”  
  
Sam smiled. “You seem like you’re in a better mood.”  
  
She shot him a look as she slid into the booth.  
  
“I’m a girl…I have the right to have mood swings.” She smiled.  
  
Sam just laughed as Dean took a drag on his beer and slid into the seat next to her.  
  
She took a big gulp of whiskey, feeling the burn as it traveled from her mouth, down her throat and into her stomach. Radiating a heat through her entire body.  
  
She sighed deep and looked at Sam and Dean. “Alright…we gotta get this shit straight. Are we gonna tell each other the truth…or are we gonna keep skirting around this shit?”  
  
The brothers exchanged looks. Sam not being sure if he wanted to take her up on her offer. Especially after the lecture he had given Dean about telling Cassie their big ‘family secret.’  
  
Dean stared at the stained and scratched table as awkward silence hung in the air like before.  
  
She rolled her eyes, grabbed both of their beer bottles and smashed them against the backrest of the booth, the shattered glass scattering all over the floor and misting the entire area in beer.  
  
“Now somebody better fucking say something.” She said as she brandished a busted bottleneck.  
  
Dean was staring at her like she had lost her mind. “You just wasted two beers.”  
  
“I bought ‘em, whadda you care?”  
  
“They were two perfectly good beers!”  
  
“Damnit! Fuck about the beers! YOU came up to me in this joint! Now either we shoot straight in here, or we can go outside and shoot straight, now what’s it gonna be?!”  
  
Sam was nervously looking around as they started to draw the attention of the other patrons of the establishment.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“What the fuck is your problem?” Dean yelled right back, oblivious to the bull of a man that was walking up to them.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“You are one spoiled little bitch you know that? You just…”  
  
“Dean!”  
  
“What?!” And then he saw him. The 6’ 3” tower of pure muscle that had silently made his way to the table.  
  
“Everythin' awright Monte?” He grated out.  
  
“Yeah, Billy, it’s alright.”  
  
The man didn’t move…neither did Dean.  
  
“Really.” She assured him.  
  
“Awright.”  
  
“Thanks hun.”  
  
The man smiled and walked away. Dean almost shaking as the threat receded. Now he could see the half-dozen or more other people that were all staring at them.  
  
“What the hell is with you and this town?”

_*Trace Adkin’s “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” playing in the background*_

She laughed and dropped her head.  
  
“And what the hell is with this song?”  
  
She laughed even harder as the lyrics hit Dean’s ears.  
  
“Come on.” She said clutching the whiskey bottle and all but climbing over Dean’s lap, shooting him a look in the process and making her way back out the door.  
  
Out in the parking lot where the blare of the music was just slightly subdued, she walked over to the pickup that was parked next to her car and dropped the tailgate down, hopping up on it and swinging her feet.  
  
“You boys walked into one hell of a place.” She chuckled.  
  
“So I see.” Dean said sarcastically.  
  
“In case ya haven’t noticed this is a small town. Less than 2,000 people. Everybody knows everybody here. Billy in there…” she said, tossing a thumb back towards the bar, “was my Dad’s best friend…and also my cousin. Jimmy’s just an old school buddy…but practically anybody in there would fight you guys if you tried to lay a finger on me.”  
  
“What are you the town princess or something?”  
  
She glared sarcastically. “No, everybody’s just family here. This is my hometown. We’re vicious when it comes to friends.”  
  
Sam was smiling. “Seems like a decent place to grow up.” He said turning to look at Dean who just looked at him like he said the sky was pink.  
  
“Sure…outsiders say that.”  
  
Sam looked at her. “Why do you say that?”  
  
“Sometimes everybody else knowin’ your business and everythin’ about you ain’t always great.” She laughed.  
  
“True.”  
  
She looked at Dean. “So what’s your take?”  
  
“I dunno.” He shook his head.  
  
She nodded. “Typical.” She quipped.  
  
He shot her a glare and she smiled right back, making him break down and laugh.  
  
“Lemme guess…you guys are staying at the Full Moon Motel.”  
  
“Of course, it’s the only place in this town.” Dean said.  
  
“I know.” She smiled. “So…we gonna talk now?”  
  
Dean and Sam again met eyes.  
  
“Fine! I’ll go first…you bunch of pussies. My brother left after my parents died. Moved to Chicago. Said he had to get out of this dead end hole of a town. I stuck around a couple years, then thought I’d see the countryside. Went up to Chicago to see ‘em, but nobody had ever heard of him. Spent the last few years followin’ dead end trails and clues. Come to find out…he came home. But he’s not the same.”  
  
Sam scrunched his eyebrows and Dean listened attentively.  
  
“Apparently nobody had ever heard of Kevin, because he changed his name to Jackal. Joined some legion of the dead cult or some bullshit. Found out about that maybe a year ago, before I found out he came back. Been huntin’ him ever since.”  
  
“So he’s here?” Sam asked.  
  
“I hope. Haven’t had a chance to go to the cave yet.”  
  
“Cave?”  
  
“Yeah…the namesake of the town. I think that’s where they’re meeting.”  
  
Dean paced, walking around in the light of the one streetlamp that lit the gravel parking lot.  
  
He then stopped in front of her and met her eyes. “We hunt shit like that. Ghosts, demons, poltergeists…you name it.”  
  
There. He had said it. Now he just had to wait for her reaction.  
  
Sam stood in silence watching her to see what she would do.  
  
All she did was nod and take a swig from the bottle.  
  
“A couple years ago…I woulda said you were nuts and probably have called a couple of my buddies out here. But now…after looking for my brother…and seeing the shit I’ve seen. I believe you.” She said as she again took a drink.  
  
Dean sighed and then rubbed his eyes.  
  
She laughed, “Tired?”  
  
“A bit.”  
  
“Alright, let’s head out.” She said, screwing the top back on the bottle and hopping down off the tailgate.  
  
“Wait…what do you mean ‘let’s’?”  
  
“I’m staying at the motel too.”  
  
“Thought you owned this town?” He said sarcastically.  
  
“Doesn’t mean I want to.” She said with a smile, climbing into her car and firing up the engine.  
  
“You gonna follow me?” She asked, leaning out the window.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
She pulled up to the exit of the bar and waited for the Impala to pull up behind her before slamming on the gas and heading down the lonely two-lane.

* * *

 

“She drives worse than you Dean.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, shooting a look at Sam before returning his eyes to the road in time to see the taillights of the Monte take a curve at at least eighty.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Damn that girl can drive. She sure ain’t scared of anything is she?”  
  
“Doesn’t look like it.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Full Moon Motel was deserted. The heavyweight old lady behind the counter of course was best friends with Monte. Laughing and joking about the antics of her late father. Sam and Dean walked in behind her and the lady said they were the first customers in a week. 

Thanks to Monte’s hometown connections Gladys let them have the room a whole week for one day’s rent. Monte’s room of course was free.  
  
“Alright, goodnight guys.”  
  
“Nite, Monte.” Sam said, as he carried his and Dean’s bag into the room.  
  
Dean hung around for a minute while Monte went and grabbed the leftover Crown Royal from her car.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
She hopped up on the hood of her car and leaned back on the windshield. Taking a swig and sighing deeply.  
  
“You know anything about this cult your brother’s in?”  
  
He was trying to start a conversation with her…hard thing to do for a guy whose whole life revolved around the paranormal.  
  
“Not much. Satanic. Human sacrifices. That’s about all I’ve gotten.”  
  
“HUMAN sacrifices?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
She sighed. “Yeah.” She whispered.

* * *

 

She had idolized her brother when they were younger. Confident that he would always be her shelter in the storm of life. He had promised her shortly after their parent’s deaths that he would never leave her…and then he did. Part of her hated him. She knew if she ever saw him again he was at least gonna have a broken nose and black eye. But despite everything he was still her brother. And she still loved him.  
  
After she had first found out about the cult he had joined, she spent a week in a backwater town’s hotel puking her guts up. She couldn’t bear to think of her brother doing those things…or having those things done to him. Part of her was scared to death that when she found The Clan, as they called themselves, she would be too late.  
  
The sting in her eyes brought her back from her thoughts and she was able to save face and blink away the tears. But Dean had already seen.  
  
“Monte…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“We’ll find him.”  
  
“It’s not your fight.”  
  
“It is now.”  
  
“What in the hell makes you think that?”  
  
“Because I want to help you.”  
  
Silence. Pure, blessed, damned silence.  
  
She polished off the bottle and tossed it in the parking lot. Dean’s eyes following its arched path through the air, and its demise as it hit pavement.  
  
“It’s late…why don’t you get some rest.”  
  
“Who died and made you my father?”  
  
Dean shot her a look.  
  
“We’ll go to the caves first thing in the morning…okay.”   
  
It wasn’t a question. He said it as a fact and even though she hated it…she wanted Sam and Dean with her. Some backup wouldn’t be a bad idea if she was going to face what she thought she would.  
  
She swallowed hard and nodded.  
  
“Night.”  
  
She nodded again, and Dean turned to go into his and Sam’s room.  
  
As soon as she heard the lock click on their door she let three lone tears roll down her cheeks. She hated crying, but sometimes you just had to.  
  
Dean peeked through the curtained window to see her furiously wiping her face and watched her walk around the side of the hotel.  
  
“Everything alright?” Sam asked as he pulled his laptop out of its case.  
  
“Yeah…I’ll be right back.”  
  
“Dean?”  
  
He was gone.

* * *

 

She leaned against the worn canvas of the old punching bag out back, resting her forehead on its rough surface.  
  
“Damnit.” She cursed, striking the bag. “Why the fuck do I have to be a pussy. They’re trying to help me, why do I have to be such a bitch. And why the hell does he have to be so nice. Fucker, doesn’t he know that’s just screwing me up more.” She chuckled. “Those damn eyes…fuck.”   
  
She struck the bag again…and again, and began a series of blows to take her mind off all the thoughts that were swirling like a whirlpool in her head. Thoughts about her brother. Whether he was alive or had been one of the sacrifices. Thoughts about having to face those fears tomorrow. Thoughts about Sam’s genuine smile and thought’s about Dean’s haunting hazel eyes. Those eyes that seemed to have been lurking in the back of her mind from the moment he first smiled at her. That smile that refused to leave her alone.

* * *

 

Dean silently made his way around the small building to find her in the back, by the supply shed, beating the shit out of an old punching bag that was strung up.  
  
She hadn’t wrapped her knuckles and they were already turning raw. She was going hell bent for leather, and punching it over and over again without ever stopping. Finally she took one mean right hook and a roundhouse kick, bringing the bag crashing to the ground.  
  
She stood there panting for breath with tears and sweat streaming down her face, when she saw a shadow move from around the corner of the building.  
  
Quicker than he had even registered her movement she had a .44 Magnum pointed at his head.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s just me.” He said, raising his hands in surrender.  
  
She panted and replaced the gun in her waistband.  
  
 _Just great, it’s not bad enough that I can’t stop thinking about you, but now you won’t leave me alone_. She thought.  
  
“How many guns you got anyways?” He joked.  
  
She refused an answer, staring at him and still trying to catch her breath.  
  
He looked down to see blood oozing from her now raw knuckles.  
  
He almost winced. Moving towards her gingerly and carefully taking one of her hands in his.   
  
“You should’ve wrapped them.” He whispered.  
  
He met her eyes to see the tears falling of their own accord and gently pulled her into a hug; letting her bury her face in his chest, as he rested his chin on top of her head.  
  
She grasped at his leather jacket fighting back the sobs that insisted on erupting…she wouldn’t let them.  
  
“Sshhh…it’s alright to cry. We’ll help you.”  
  
She nodded and took a deep breath, breathing in his pure masculine smell and forcing herself not to react to it…it was a losing battle, but at least he didn’t seem to notice. Finally regaining her composure she pulled away from him, taking a second before meeting his eyes.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
He nodded. “Come on, you need some rest.”  
  
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hers found its own way around his waist and they walked back to their side-by-side rooms. When they made it to the door, Dean gently brushed some stray hairs from her face and said goodnight before disappearing into his own room. Shutting the door and leaning against it, sighing deeply.  
  
“She okay?” Sam asked.  
  
“She will be.” Was all Dean answered as he stripped of his jacket and collapsed in bed. Falling to sleep in his blue jeans and t-shirt almost instantly.  
  
Sam watched him for a moment. Dean had always been a ladies man, but it seemed like recently there was more under that tough exterior he presented. Sam smiled; hoping Dean for once could at least be happy. Monte was a good girl after all, and a good match for Dean. Hell, she could probably kick his ass…which was exactly what he needed sometimes.  
  
He laughed quietly to himself before switching off the lamp and following his brother into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

 

“Damnit.” She whispered as she collapsed into bed, kicking of her shoes and curling up under the thick blanket.   
  
The tears began to fall again despite how hard she tried to stop them. She punched into the pillow and cursed herself for being weak. Despite the warmth radiating from the heater and despite having a blanket she felt cold. She grabbed the extra pillow and held it like her life depended on it. She ended up crying herself to sleep within a few moments. Her last thought straying to a certain set of hazel eyes before she did. 


	4. Chapter 4

Morning broke earlier than any of them would have liked. Dean awoke to the sound of the shower running; Sam had snagged it first.  
  
He groaned and popped his neck and back. Squinting and rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat up.  
  
He grabbed his jacket and walked out into the cold air to see Monte leaning against her car dragging on a cigarette.  
  
He shrugged his jacket on and walked over to her.  
  
“Those things’ll kill ya you know.”  
  
“Good.” She stated, as she took another hit.  
  
He walked over to her, grabbed the cigarette from her hand and tossed it away.  
  
“No _not_ good.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“’Cause I don’t want you to die.”  
  
She had no snide-ass comeback to that. She just stared at him in disbelief; swallowing hard and finally dropping her gaze and shoving her hands into her hoodie’s front pocket.  
  
He sighed and turned away from her as Sam emerged from the hotel room.   
  
“So what’s the plan?”  
  
Monte squinted against the rising sun, “Gladys is cooking us breakfast, we can eat first, then I figured we’d ride down to the cave. I know a great place we can park the cars where no one will see ‘em, and we can approach the entrance from the south.”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
“Monte!” Gladys called from the main office building of the hotel. “Breakfast is ready child, bring your friends and feed yourselves.”  
  
Monte twisted around. “Yes ma’am. Be right in.”  
  
Dean smiled. “Good ol’ southern hospitality.”  
  
“Ain’t nothin’ like it.” Monte smiled.

* * *

 

Plenty of bacon, sausage, waffles, biscuits, eggs, grits, cereal, toast, milk, coffee and orange juice later, they finally pried themselves away from Gladys’ motherly grasp.  
  
Dean furiously wiped his cheek on his shirtsleeve after tearing himself away from one of her sloppy kisses.  
  
“What is with that woman?!”  
  
Sam laughed.  
  
“You boys never spent any quality time in the south have you?” Monte smiled as she led the way to the cars.  
  
“And when did she have time to cook all that food?”  
  
“What that?” She said, turning and pointing to the office, “probably started at five…but I’ll tell ya, that ain’t nothin’.”  
  
Dean looked at her like she was out of her mind.  
  
Monte just laughed.   
  
She walked over to her car and popped the trunk. She stripped off her hoodie and rummaged through her duffle bag pulling out a butter-soft black leather jacket.  
  
Dean grinned absent-mindedly.  
  
She pulled out two holsters and wrapped the straps around her shoulders, cris-crossing in the back, before pulling her jacket on. Next, the Glock and Magnum made themselves at home on either side.  
  
She propped her foot up on the rear bumper and strapped her blade back onto her ankle; the switchblade already in place in her back pocket.  
  
Next a handful of shotgun shells were shoved in an inside pocket of the jacket and a bottle of water on the other side.  
  
“Holy water?” Sam asked.  
  
“Yep.” She said as she continued rummaging.  
  
She then grabbed a belt and slid two sheathes on to it, pulled it through her belt loops and walked to the driver’s side, pulling twin daggers out from under the seat and sliding them into place.  
  
She leaned over to the passenger side of the car, opening the glove box and pulling out her double-barreled .38 which quickly made its home in the waistband of her pants.  
  
Finally standing up and returning to the trunk to pull out a sawed off shotgun and checking to make sure it was loaded. She grabbed her toolbox and placed it on the ground before finally slamming the trunk closed and meeting the eyes of two awe-struck guys.  
  
“Anything else?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
She smirked. “Yeah, but I ran outta room.”  
  
He just laughed and shook his head, making his way over to his own car and popping the trunk, pulling up on the false bottom.  
  
“That’s effing awesome.” She praised as he lifted up the floor.  
  
He smirked right back and proceeded to arm himself and Sam.  
  
She went back over to the toolbox and opened the dual clasps, lifting the top and pulling out the top tray that actually had tools in it. In the bottom were boxes and boxes of ammunition. She pulled some out, stashing them in her pockets and tossed a couple to Sam.  
  
“We have our own.” Dean stated.  
  
“Yeah, but those are blessed.” She said as she closed the toolbox again.  
  
“Blessed?” Sam asked astonished. “How did you get a priest to bless bullets?”  
  
“I didn’t.” She smiled. “He blessed a dead hamster.”  
  
“What?” Dean asked with a grin.  
  
She leaned against the fender of her car, shotgun still in hand. “Paid a kid twenty bucks to carry a shoebox full of those up to a priest and feed ‘em a sob story about wanting his dead hamster to go to heaven. The priest fell for it, blessed the box and the kid brought it back to me.”  
  
Sam shook his head and laughed.  
  
“That’s incredible.” Dean laughed. “You’re evil you know?” He joked, pointing at her.  
  
She smiled. “Yep.” Resting the shotgun on her shoulder.  
  
She sighed deep; steeling herself for what she knew would be a day of days. She swallowed hard and tried to force back the fear that was rising like bile in the back of her throat.  
  
“You guys ready to roll?”  
  
Dean slammed the trunk closed on his car. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

Monte led the way down some back roads and gravel paths, finally making her way slowly down a hill and parking next to a creek. They were far enough away from the road that the cars’ parking place was completely hidden from view.  
  
She got out as Dean and Sam pulled the Impala up beside her and parked.  
  
Dean glanced around the surroundings as Sam walked over towards the creek.  
  
“The creek runs out of the cave’s natural spring. The cave is up there.” She pointed with the shotgun.  
  
Dean twisted around to look up the hill and prepared himself for whatever baddie he might face this go-round.  
  
Monte leaned against the fender of her car, completely zoned out and staring up the hill at what she was certain was going to be her death.   
  
Dean turned around to see her staring up the hill. “You alright?”  
  
She met his gaze and nodded.  
  
Sam was watching the exchange between the two. “Alright…now or never.”  
  
Monte took lead walking up the hill and towards the cave. Sam and Dean throwing nervous glances between each other behind her.  
  
She reached the mouth of the cave and cocked the shotgun. Grabbing the barrel and using the weight of it to cock it with one hand, her left hand being preoccupied with the .38. She then tossed the shotgun in the air just enough to let go of the barrel and catch the handle perfectly.  
  
Dean raised his eyebrow.  
  
As they walked in the first section of the cave they realized it was deserted. Worse than that, there weren’t even signs of anything ever taking place within its walls. They split up to check the adjoining sections and Monte waited to see where the boys would go.  
  
She followed Dean to the right and got him alone. He leaned against a wall and looked around.  
  
“Doesn’t look like anything’s here.” He stated as she walked in front of him and stopped. He could tell by the look in her eyes something was wrong.  
  
She holstered the .38 and held the shotgun behind her as she slowly leaned forward and place the slightest of kisses on his perfect lips. Meeting his eyes when she pulled away; which were full of questions.  
  
She hesitated a moment. “In case I don’t make it out of this.”  
  
He pulled her towards him and kissed her again. His hand cupping her cheek lightly, but enough to let the warmth of his hand penetrate into her soul, his lips barely making enough contact to electrify her entire being, before pulling back; their faces mere centimeters from each other.  
  
“We’re  _all_ getting out of this…okay?” He whispered.  
  
She nodded ever so slightly and swallowed hard before pulling back just in time to see Sam walk through the entrance.  
  
Dean turned to look at his brother and shot a glace to the side where Monte was finding the ground quite interesting.  
  
“There’s another room in back…I think you two should see.”  
  
Monte and Dean exchanged looks before following Sam deeper into the cave. After a few twists and turns and a couple of tight squeezes they entered into a large room. Immediately they were met with the scent of copper…or more precisely, blood.  
  
There were altars and red-stained bowls. Strange hieroglyphs and symbols on the walls. And at the far back a stone table; with some very wicked instruments making themselves at home on top.  
  
Dean grimaced.   
  
Monte traced some of the symbols on the walls with her fingers and walked over to the table. Dark red stains littered its surface, marking where rivulets of human blood once ran.  
  
She swallowed hard to keep from puking. Dean and Sam watched carefully.  
  
Her eyes traced all the jagged lines on the surface, before once again staring at the walls.  
  
Dean and Sam stood in silence, trying to figure out what was going through her head.  
  
Without any warning she yelled and hit the stone wall with every ounce of strength she had. Her knuckles, barely being healed over from the night before, busted open and blood ran anew down her fingers as she stood literally shaking with rage.  
  
“Damnit!”  
  
Dean yelled at her when he saw her strike the wall. “Monte! What the hell?”  
  
He rushed over to her to take a look at her already black and blue hands. She snatched her hand back from him only to be met with a glare as she leaned against the cool stone. Sam was standing patiently by her side and held her shotgun for her as Dean insisted at looking at her hand. She winced as he touched the soft flesh and then he yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket to tie around it until they made it back to the hotel.  
  
“You wanna try that shit again?” He asked sarcastically.  
  
“Sure…still got one good hand.” She shot right back.  
  
He glared.  
  
“Fuck…” She whispered, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “After all this shit. All that time. I finally track his pathetic ass back home and he’s not even fucking here.” She whispered.  
  
Sam watched her. “Well they do obviously come here. Maybe…maybe they come at night. A lot of rituals and things do have to take place after nightfall.”  
  
She sighed deep and looked at him, nodding slightly. “That makes sense. Thanks Sam.” She smirked.  
  
He smiled.  
  
She shook her head. “Sorry guys, guess I got a temper on me.”  
  
Dean laughed. “That’s an understatement.”  
  
“Shut it.” She warned jokingly. Looking down at her hand and flexing it experimentally, she watched as red slowly spread across the fabric.  
  
She shook her head. “Fuck.”  
  
Dean sighed, “Well, let’s go back to the hotel. We can figure out how we want to approach this, and we can take care of that hand, that is of course unless you feel like you might be hitting another wall in the near future. ‘Cause I don’t feel like wasting my time.”  
  
She smiled shamefully.  
  
“Come on.” He said more pleasantly, letting his hand rest on her shoulder for a moment, before turning to leave.  
  
She watched him as he led the way out of the cave. This was why she never let herself get attached. It always ended bad. She had already lost Kevin and she would be damned if she would let anything happen to Dean and Sam. She’d die first.


	5. Chapter 5

When they got back to the hotel Sam immediately pulled out his laptop, and Dean grabbed the first-aid kit from the back of his car. Monte was reluctant but allowed Dean to doctor her busted hand. She winced as he pulled the wrap tight but bit her lip and forced herself not to make any noise. Dean glanced at her as he secured the bandage.   
  
“Found something.” Sam said as he pointed to the laptop’s screen. “Only problem is there has to be at least 20 different cults here.” He shook his head in disgust.  
  
Monte walked over and leaned over his shoulder and Dean packed up the kit before joining them. Sam was scrolling through pages and pages of old drawings and descriptions.  
  
Finally she saw it. ‘The Clan.’  
  
“Wait…go back.”  
  
Sam stopped and hit the back button.  
  
She stared at the picture in silence; Dean looking at her from the side.  
  
“Monte?”  
  
She licked her lip. “That’s them.” She whispered.  
  
“You gotta be kidding me?” Sam asked.  
  
“What?” Dean jumped in.  
  
“’The Clan’?” They’re basically the worst one on this list, the closet to Lucifer himself.” Sam offered.  
  
“What the hell is ‘The Clan’?” Dean asked.  
  
“Well for starters they’re one of the oldest Satanic cults. There are rumors and accounts of the members becoming more than human. Gaining strengths and mental abilities. They’re cannibalistic. They not only sacrifice humans but some of their rituals include eating certain parts. And let me tell ya, some of the shit the head honcho’s gotta do to gain his power is pretty gruesome.”  
  
Monte paced the small room before heading back outside.  
  
Dean grabbed his jacket and followed her.  
  
She was leaning against her car, watching the sky turn from the blue of day into the oranges and pinks of dusk. He walked over and leaned against the fender next to her.  
  
“Listen…Dean…” She sighed. “It might be better if you and Sam just take off.”  
  
“Now why would we do that?”  
  
She shook her head. “Something’s going to happen Dean…I can feel it. This…something’s not right. You and Sam…you help people. You save people…everyday. I don’t want one or both of you walking into that cave and not coming back out.”  
  
“But we’re going to let you do that?”  
  
She looked down the road. “It’s not the same.”  
  
“How?!”  
  
“You have Sam! You have your Dad! You have this thing to settle with whatever killed your Mom. I have nothing left. Kevin’s already gone. If I don’t make it out of this it’s not going to matter.”  
  
“It matters to me.”  
  
She stood in silence. “Dean…I gotta do this. I gotta finish this. But…something’s going to happen…I can’t shake this feeling. And I don’t want you or Sam getting hurt in the process.”  
  
“We won’t.”  
  
“How can you be so damn sure?”  
  
He shrugged. “’Cause I rock.”  
  
She scoffed. “You know sometimes that attitude can get annoying.”  
  
He smiled.  
  
She stared at the ground before finally checking her clock on her cell phone and sighing deeply.  
  
“You ready?” Dean asked.  
  
She just nodded and he went in to get Sam…and once again they hit the dusty road.

* * *

 

This time was different. They made sure they were loaded down with ammunition and amulets. Sam was a little freaked now that he had a little more information about what they were facing, but Dean was more focused on Monte.   
  
She had become cold the moment they left the hotel. All business. She had armed herself and refused to think about anything else. Short responses were all she would give when asked any questions and Dean could find no trace of the spark she used to possess. She had changed.   
  
She had had to. She had to steel herself for whatever might happen. She hated being such a bitch to Dean and Sam. But the situation called for it.  
  
They entered the cave in stealth; extra careful not to make any unneeded noise or use any unneeded light.  
  
Monte led the way despite Dean’s insistence.  
  
There was no playing this time; she headed straight for the back section of the cave they had visited earlier. That weird feeling in the pit of her stomach gnawing at her more and more…something was going to happen. And it scared the shit out of her.  
  
She reached the small opening that led to the room and stopped, staring in disbelief, Dean and Sam coming up behind her and watching the scene that unfolded.  
  
What looked to be the leader of the group was standing in front of the stone table with deep gashes down both of his arms and legs, the blood running out freely, and to the trio’s disgust, was being lapped up by about six other members.  
  
“Oh my god…” Sam whispered almost gagging.  
  
Dean didn’t look too hot either.  
  
Monte stared. “I’m all for biting…but damn.”  
  
Dean looked at her in surprise.  
  
“What?”  
  
He just laughed, and she finally broke down and offered a small smile, not telling them what was ripping at her heart.  
  
She sighed deep and pulled her Magnum and .38.  
  
“You don’t start small do you?” Dean asked, eyeing the weaponry she held in her bandaged hands.  
  
“If you go out…do it in a blaze of glory.” She whispered.  
  
Sam and Dean exchanged looks before finally pulling their own weapons.  
  
Monte burst through the opening first firing two shots at either wall, drawing the attention of all the blood-covered faces.  
  
Dean and Sam were right behind her.   
  
The Clan’s members rushed them, snarling and growling like animals.  
  
Dean and Sam got drawn into their own fights, Sam having to shoot one of the members before he could stab Dean. Dean then twisted around taking a twelve-inch blade and slashed another’s throat.  
  
Before they knew what happened two shots rang out and Monte stood stock still in the middle of the room staring down the leader. The leader held the torn out throats of two of followers that had been closest to him and the other two lay dead at his feet; bullet holes through their skulls.  
  
“You were always a better shot than me Tabrina.” The leader ground out in an unearthly voice, licking his blood stained teeth, the canines of which were too long to be human.  
  
“Kevin.”  
  
Dean and Sam stood in silence.  
  
“Oh hell no…” Dean whispered.  
  
Kevin shook his head slightly. “Kevin is dead human. The name’s Jackal.”  
  
“Try Fucker.”  
  
He laughed dryly.  
  
He dropped the throats that he was holding and walked right up to her, standing less than a foot away from her.  
  
Dean went to make a move but she holstered her guns and held her hand out in a gesture to stop him.  
  
“You finally tracked me down, did you?”  
  
The sheer coldness in the voice made Sam shiver.  
  
He smiled evilly and ran the tip of his tongue over his canine, drawing a small bead of blood.  
  
She stared him down. No emotion on her face.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Why?” He scoffed. “You know I had to get out of this town…I needed something…better.” He stated, cocking his head and raising his hands to gesture to the current surroundings. “I’m so much more now.” He squinted.  
  
She still stood in silence.  
  
“I trusted you.”  
  
“Your mistake.”  
  
He took another step closer to her, getting right in her face…she didn’t move an inch.  
  
“You trust me now?”  
  
She wasn’t about to honor him with an answer.  
  
“What are you gonna do?” He mocked, cocking his head. “I could always beat you in a fist fight.”  
  
Still no response.  
  
“You think you can kill The Jackal?…You’re sorely mistaken.”  
  
“Sam…Dean…get out.”  
  
“Monte…”  
  
“Out.”  
  
“No.”  
  
She turned her head to face them, The Jackal never taking his gaze from her face.  
  
“Now.”  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“Dean…please.” She begged through clenched teeth.  
  
He glanced between The Jackal and her before finally…reluctantly agreeing and following Sam out of the cave, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time.  
  
When they had disappeared from view she again turned to look at what use to be her brother. Kevin was gone. There didn’t seem to be anything left of him buried within the shell that stood in front of her now…not that that made what she had to do any easier.  
  
She tossed her guns to the side, the metal clattering on the stone floor, before shrugging off her jacket.  
  
She took a fighting stance and locked eyes with the beast in front of her.  
  
He laughed. “You think you can beat me? Damn, Tabrina, I always knew you got the short end of the stick.”  
  
“I’m not the one that keeps talking.”  
  
He nodded. “Alright then.”  
  
They danced. Nothing but an intricate dance of kicks and punches. She had a busted lip and a bloody nose, The Jackal underestimated her enough to have a black eye and bruised jaw.  
  
“You’ve trained I see.”  
  
She cocked her head and raised her eyebrow.  
  
He grinned evilly. He rushed her slamming into her and forcing her back and head against the stone wall.  
  
“You son of a bitch!” She screamed.  
  
He held her there. Despite her obvious physical strength and training, he easily over powered her.  
  
He stood there, staring her down, pinning her against the wall.  
  
And then in slow motion she watched as her leaned his head down and bit a chunk out of her left arm.  
  
“FUCK!!!!!”   
  
She was panting now as she watched the mother fucker chew and swallow her flesh. She gagged.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Asshole!” She screamed, bringing her knee up with enough force to feel the reassuring crunch as it made contact.  
  
He howled like a demon and pulled back; it was his turn to pant now.  
  
She stared him down. Warm blood running down her arm and soaking her t-shirt and jeans. Her mind barely registering the tingling that had started at the bite and was slowly taking over her bicep. The shock was dulling the pain.  
  
He finally gained his breath and walked right back up to her, nose to nose.  
  
“I did it you know.”  
  
Her eyebrows creased.  
  
“Killed them…lemme tell ya, hearing their screams…smelling their flesh burn in Dad’s beloved car…beautiful.” He growled, winking at her.  
  
Her jaw clenched so tight she was sure she felt a tooth crack before screaming at the top of her lungs and bringing her switchblade up from her side with such force that she buried it to the hilt in the side of his head. 

* * *

 

Dean heard the scream erupt from the depths of the cave and turned to run back in before Sam grabbed him.  
  
“Dean…wait!”  
  
“No!”  
  
“Dean!”   
  
Despite himself he knew Sam was right. He had left Monte to deal with this herself…that’s what she had wanted.

* * *

 

She stood over the blood-covered body, a knife handle sticking out of the side of its head.  
  
“Please…” It choked.  
  
Tears stared to fall from her eyes.  
  
The voice was different. The coldness was gone, the unearthliness. It was Kevin again.  
  
She choked back a sob before raising the shotgun and aiming right for its head.

She collapsed in a heap, leaning against the wall, the shotgun at her side. 

And she cried.

_*Live’s “Lightning Crashes” playing in the background*_

* * *

 

Dean again startled as the blast from the gun echoed from the cave and rushed head long into the darkness, Sam on his heels.  
  
They found her sitting up against the wall, clutching her knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. They saw the gruesome remains of the thing they had left her with.  
  
Dean walked over to her slowly, crouching down beside her and laying a hand on her arm.  
  
“Monte?” He whispered.  
  
She met his eyes, but did not see him. She wasn’t there.  
  
His face etched itself with concern as he shot a look at Sam, which didn’t look much different. He then noticed the chunk of flesh that was missing from her arm and he quickly took his belt off and wrapped it around her arm above the wound to slow the bleeding.  
  
“What the hell happened?” Sam whispered, making his way over. He gathered her discarded weapons and Dean carefully lifted her limp body and carried her out of the death-ridden area.  
  
“I dunno.” Was all Dean replied as he studied Monte’s unresponsive face.  
  
When they made it to the mouth of the cave, he crouched down on the ground still holding her motionless form and tossed the keys to the Impala to Sam, ordering him to bring it up to the cave.  
  
While Sam disappeared through the trees, Dean tried to no avail to get some kind of response from Monte.  
  
“Hey…Monte…come on…talk to me……please.” He choked, brushing the hair out of her face and rubbing some of the blood off of her cheek and chin. He was only met with silence.   
  
She was awake, well, close to it. Her blue eyes were open, but they stared into an abyss that no others could see. Tears fell, but no sounds came from her lips, even the wracked breathing was missing. An eerie calm.  
  
Sam maneuvered the black beast through the trees before pulling up to the entrance of the cave and getting out to help Dean into the other side of the car, where he continued to cradle Monte until they got back to the hotel room. 

* * *

 

Dean carried her into her hotel room and refused to relinquish his hold on her as he sat down on the bed with her.  
  
Monte had passed out right before they made it back to the Full Moon Motel, so Dean held her sleepy body in his lap.  
  
Sam walked into the small bathroom and ran some hot water, bringing a wet rag back out and handing it to Dean who proceeded to wipe the remaining blood off of her face.  
  
Sam then quickly got out the first aid kit from the other room and they tried to patch the ripped flesh of her arm.  
  
“Look’s like the son of a bitch bit her.” Sam whispered, sitting at the end of the bed.  
  
“Yeah it does.” Dean said absent mindedly as he wrapped tape around her bicep, holding the gauze in place.  
  
Sam watched the concern that wracked Dean’s face; Dean was unaware was he watched Monte’s sleeping form.  
  
When they finished with her wounds Dean leaned back against the headboard, clutching Monte to his chest as she sat in his lap.  
  
Five…ten…fifteen minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness. Neither of them saying a word and Monte never waking from her slumber.  
  
“You going to stay with her?” Sam finally asked, breaking the silence.  
  
Dean nodded.  
  
Sam bit the inside of his lip. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning.” He said, turning and walking out the door.  
  
As he held the doorknob, the door wide open, he added, “Dean…she’ll be okay.”  
  
Dean turned to look at him and nodded. “Thanks Sammy.” He whispered, his voice scratchy and strained.  
  
Sam smiled before leaving them in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

_*Howie Day’s “Collide” playing in the background*_

She woke up squinting against the sun that was filtering through the drawn curtains. Her face felt swollen and like a horse had kicked her and she felt a sharp pain radiating through her arm. She didn’t have to think about why. The night before was still clear as day in her mind. 

The ritual they walked in on. The feel as she pulled those triggers; no matter how many lives you take you never got over that click. The look that was in Kevin’s eyes, making him something he was never before. The feel of his teeth tearing through her muscle and the tearing of her heart when he told her that he had been the one to kill their parents. She could still feel the way the blade entered his skull. And worse of all she could still hear his voice…the voice of her brother that she had loved more than anything, as she pulled the trigger on that shotgun.

She choked, fighting back the tears. She felt a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, and the warmth of a protective body against her back.  
  
Dean had one arm under her head, acting as her pillow, stretched out in front of her face. The other was wrapped around her shoulders, clutching her against his chest.  
  
She smiled despite the pain as her free hand reached up to hold the forearm that was wrapped around her chest. She then eyed the hand that was stretched out in front of her and let her hand run softly down the length finally lacing her fingers within his.  
  
His fingers stayed relaxed for a moment before closing around hers and squeezing her hand slightly. He leaned over and placed a light kiss on the side of her neck as she smiled slightly.  
  
She let go of his hand and rolled onto her back to face him.  
  
Nothing was said as blue eyes met hazel.  
  
Silence was what they needed.  
  
Dean could see the tears that made her eyes sparkle with impossible depth and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his chest where she proceeded to cry what little tears she had left.

* * *

 

She finally pulled back, having no more tears and met his concerned eyes.   
  
He didn’t say, “I’m sorry” or “It’s okay” or even shushed her. It just wouldn’t have been true. Sorry didn’t cut it and there’s no way in hell what happened was okay.  
  
Instead all he said was “I’m here,” as he ran his fingers over her red cheek and through her tangled hair.  
  
She smiled despite the pain, because she knew he was.  
  
She had one hand resting on his chest, zoning out and focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest.  
  
He just watched her.  
  
Finally she snuggled closer to him and buried herself in his arms…he gladly let her.  
  
“It was him.” She whispered.  
  
He pulled back to look at her questioningly.   
  
“He killed my parents.”  
  
He sighed. “What happened baby?”  
  
She tightened her grasp around him and told him everything.  
  
She told him about the fight and about the way he tore the chunk out of her arm.  
  
He absent-mindedly ran his hand lightly over the bandage as she recounted her tale.  
  
Then she told him how the Jackal had confessed and how she had buried her knife into its skull.  
  
She sighed deep and after a moment of silence added; “Something happened…after I stabbed him…he was Kevin again.” She choked. “I killed him…I killed Kevin.”  
  
He didn’t have to ask how. He had heard the gunshot and knew from what weapon it had came from, and when he had reached the cave he knew exactly where she had aimed too.  
  
He pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek, letting her bury her face into the crook of his neck.  
  
“There was no other choice. You know you did what you had to.”  
  
She nodded slightly.  
  
“Monte…you saved him. Whatever was happening to him was bound to have gotten worse…if nothing else you let him escape that.”  
  
She would have cried but she was physically incapable…she had no tears left to shed.  
  
He pulled back to rest his forehead on hers, cradling her face in his large callused hands and met her red eyes.  
  
“I don’t know what I would have done with out you and Sam,” she whispered.  
  
“You don’t have to think about that.” He replied.  
  
Her eyes glanced around the room. “Where’s Sam…is he okay?” She asked, her panic rising.  
  
“He’s fine.” He reassured her, bringing her back into his embrace. “Just relax.”  
  
She did. She once again snuggled into his warmth and tried to steady her breathing and racing heartbeat.  
  
“What would you have done…if you had to kill Sam?” She whispered into his chest.  
  
He sighed deep and she pulled back to watch his face.  
  
“I would have shot myself first…which makes you a million times stronger than me.” He whispered.  
  
She dropped her gaze and he once again rested his forehead against hers.  
  
She met his eyes and somehow knew everything was going to be okay. She would never get over what she had done. Never would get over losing her parents. Never would get over the betrayal of the only person until now that ever mattered to her. But somehow, while getting lost in the depths of those shining hazel eyes, she found the comfort she was looking for. And then his lids descended over the very eyes that held her imagination and he leaned forward kissing her softly.  
  
Part of her wanted to pull back, wanted to refuse anything pleasurable after what had happened. But she wanted this…needed it.  
  
She felt his tongue graze her lips and she allowed him to deepen the kiss.  
  
And time stood still.

By the time they broke they were both short on breath. Not because of physical strain, but emotional. He rolled his forehead against hers and nuzzled into her soft cheek, breathing in her scent. Relaxing into each other.

Breaking the silence his phone alerted him that he had a message.  
  
His strong arm reached over her relaxed form to grab the device off of the end table.  
  
“What is it?” She asked quietly as he flipped it open and studied the screen.  
  
“Sam…wondering if we want breakfast.”  
  
She smiled when he glanced at her from the side.  
  
“Whaddya think?” He asked, his free arm wrapped around her shoulders.  
  
“Tell him 10 minutes.” She replied, snuggling closer into the crook of his arm.  
  
He smiled and texted Sam back.

* * *

 

Sam leaned against the Impala as his phone beeped its alert that he had a message. He glanced at the lit up screen to see the reply.  
  
“10 mins plze…shell b ok.”  
  
Sam smiled, replacing the Treo back in his pocket and sighing in the cold air.


	7. Chapter 7

Only about five minutes passed before Dean came walking out of the hotel room, wrapped in about three different over-shirts and jackets and his hands stashed in his pockets. He made his way over to Sam and the Impala and leaned against the fender next to his brother. 

Sam smiled slightly.  
  
“She’s finishing up in the shower.”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
“She alright?”  
  
“No…but I think she will be. I think it’ll be better if she told you what happened though.”  
  
“That’s cool.”  
  
Silence…  
  
“Sammy…”  
  
“Shit…you called me Sammy…this can’t be good.”  
  
“No…it’s just…damnit…”  
  
Sam watched amused.  
  
Dean wouldn’t meet his eyes.  
  
“Are you…I mean…is it okay…you know…me…and…Monte…I mean…you okay…”  
  
“With you and Monte? Yeah.” He laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
He shrugged and shook his head. “I dunno…’cause of Jess…I mean…I know you were serious with her…I didn’t know…I didn’t know how you would take it…me…having a girl around……you know I’d never do anything to hurt you Sammy…”  
  
“Dean…shut up. Yeah, I was serious with Jessica…but that has nothing to do with Monte. There’s obviously something between you two…something that I’m sure as hell not going to stand in the way of just because I lost someone. You deserve to be happy Dean…and I think Monte needs you.” He smiled. “Yeah…” He nodded. “I’m okay with it…and…thanks…for…you know…asking.”  
  
Dean sighed and nodded. “Thanks Sam.”  
  
Sam smiled.  
  
“Don’t.” Dean said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Go all mushy-touchy-feely on me.”  
  
“You started it.” Sam laughed.  
  
Dean looked away. “Whatever.” He mumbled.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“Yeah…” He asked staring down the road like everything was normal.  
  
“Thanks…seriously…and I’d never do anything to hurt you either.”  
  
“I know.” Dean nodded. “I…ahem…I…love you Sam.” He coughed out, mumbling his words with the cough distorting his voice.  
  
Sam smiled. “I love you too Dean.”  
  
Dean met his eyes and smirked, nodding slightly, looking up to see Monte wrapped up in her hoodie walking out of the hotel room door.  
  
She smiled slightly at the boys, the signs of tears still apparent on her face despite the shower.  
  
She walked right over to Sam and hugged him around his neck.  
  
“Thanks Sam…for everything.”  
  
“Anytime.”  
  
Dean smiled.  
  
Monte let go of Sam and stood awkwardly in front of them, catching Dean’s eye for a second. She wasn’t sure what Dean might have told Sam.  
  
Dean reached out to her and pulled her over to him, wrapping an arm around her.  
  
She immediately rested her cheek on his chest and laughed when she saw Sam’s big grin.  
  
Dean smiled too. “I didn’t tell him. Wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”  
  
She nodded. “Thanks.” She whispered. “I’d rather do it.”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
Dean broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Any good place to eat around here? Besides your friend Gladys?” He asked.  
  
She smiled. “Ummm…yeah…there’s Hudson’s Diner up the road about ten miles. Off of Old Dixie Trail.”  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
“Wait…” She said, glancing around the parking lot. “Where’s Ren?”  
  
“Ren?” Dean asked confused. Sam looked lost as well.  
  
“Ren…Renegade…my car.”  
  
“Oh…it’s still by the creek…we could go get it if you want.”  
  
She went silent. She never wanted to go back to that creek, that cave or anywhere within a ten mile radius, but that car was all she had left. Her dad had given it to her when she was twelve and memories flashed through her head of them working on it together.  
  
She nodded. Like hell that fucker was going to ruin her life.  
  
Dean smirked. “Alright,” he said, tossing her the keys to the Impala. “Let’s go.”  
  
She caught them dumfounded. “Wait…you mean…”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
Sam smiled as Dean got in the backseat and Sam took shotgun.  
  
She stood outside the door for a second eyeing the car.   
  
“Come on…I’m hungry!” Dean winked at her.  
  
She smiled and got in, firing up the big-block V-8 and relishing the lope of the camshaft.  
  
“Shit…” She whispered.  
  
Dean caught Sam’s eye in the rearview mirror and they exchanged smirks.  
  
Dean then watched as something passed over Monte’s face, and she smiled evilly.  
  
“Oh shit…” He said, grabbing the seat belt and barely fastening it before she slammed on the gas and did a reverse 180o, tearing out of the parking lot and slamming her way through the gears.

Dean’s muffled “Crap!” could be heard as they went flying down the highway.

After they went back to the creek, and after Monte fought back some tears, they took both cars to Hudson’s Diner. Dean was half relieved to be driving the Impala again. He swore each time she took a curve, his and the life of his car flashed before his eyes when she was driving. 

* * *

 

During another twelve course breakfast Monte recounted her tale to Sam; leaving no details out. Dean wrapped his arm around her in the booth and pulled her close when she started to get emotional. Sam just smiled.  
  
He was happy for Dean. Sure, part of him felt like it was being stabbed, because when he saw them together he would automatically think of Jessica. But there was no way in hell he’d want it any differently. Monte was one of the family now. He couldn’t think about not having her around. And hell, maybe she could finally straighten Dean out he thought jokingly.  
  
When the finally finished and walked out to the parking lot Monte hopped up on the hood of her car as Sam got in the Impala. They had talked about how they should go take care of that job in Tennessee now; the one they had shrugged off because they were helping her.  
  
Dean saw her hesitate and stopped before he got in the car. “What’s wrong?”  
  
She shook her head.  
  
“Monte…what is it?”  
  
“We didn’t talk about…I mean…me and you guys…I…never mind.” She mumbled, dropping her gaze.  
  
Dean walked over to her, placing himself between her knees and lifting up on her chin.  
  
“Talk to me.” He whispered.  
  
“I have no where to go.”  
  
“Bullshit…you’re coming with us.”  
  
She looked at him questioningly.  
  
“You seriously think I’m gonna leave you after all this shit?”  
  
She smiled.  
  
He smirked.  
  
“Come on…you’re coming with us. I dunno what we’re gonna face, probably a lot of shit like we just did, some easier, some worse. But I can’t leave you. I won’t.”  
  
She smiled again, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.  
  
Sam smiled as he watched the emotional exchange from the rearview mirror.  
  
Dean broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, giving her a wink.  
  
“Come on.” He barked, slapping her thigh. “Let’s hit the road.” He said, opening the squeaky door on his car.  
  
She smiled as she got in her own vehicle.

* * *

 

She followed the black car out of town until they got on the deserted two-lane highway heading north, before she swerved to the left and came up fast on Dean’s side.  
  
She held the gas steady for a moment, keeping her even with his car, looking over at him and smiling.  
  
He smiled too until she slammed the accelerator to the floor and left him in the dust.  
  
“Oh hell no.” He said, as his foot also made its journey to the floor, the Impala quickly making its way towards the taillights of the Monte Carlo.  
  
“Here we go.” Sam joked, resting his elbow on the windowsill and watching as the pecan trees went flying by.

_*AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” playing in the background*_


End file.
